Allies
by hemillsie
Summary: Dimension hopping is meant to be impossible, but when Peter, Matt, Nathan, Claire ..Heroes.. , with Sam and Dean ..Supernatural.. find themselves transported to the world of Dr Who and Torchwood, everyone must band together to stop a rising threat.HIATUS.
1. Prologue, Chapter 1: Hideout

**ALLIES.**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Heroes, Supernatural, Dr Who or Torchwood, and I never will.

_OK, SO THE IDEA IS THAT THIS IS SET AFTER THE 'FUGITIVES' SEASON OF HEROES. THERE ARE A FEW THINGS THAT I CHANGED: ARTHUR PETRELLI NEVER TOOK PETERS POWER, SO PETER IS STILL AN EMPATH. ALSO, SYLAR NEVER KILLED NATHAN - HE GOT HIS ABILITY BUT DIDN'T MANAGE TO KILL HIM BEFORE EVERYONE ELSE SHOWED UP. FINALLY, THE GOVERNMENT HAVE STARTED TELLING EVERYONE ABOUT PEOPLE WITH ABILITIES, SO EVERYONE IS SCARED._

_PETER, CLAIRE, MATT, NATHAN AND SYLAR HAVE ESCAPED THE AGENTS AND ARE ON THE RUN..._

**PROLOGUE**

Sylar advanced towards the run-down, underground shack that he could see in the distance. He knew that the Petrelli brothers, the cheerleader and Parkman were all in there, he had been trailing them for days. Sylar didn't really know what he expected to happen if he just walked into their hideout - would they try to kill him then and there, or would they listen to what he had to say?

He had never thought he would ever hunt people with abilities to make offers to them... usually he found them, then took their ability. No questions, no conversations and DEFINITELY no offers. But recently things had changed. What with 'Them,' as super-powered people were so kindly referred to by the agents originally hired by Nathan Petrelli, being rounded up like animals, Sylar had decided it was time to take them out. _Before_ things got out of control. He had seen the places where they kept special people – if the agents continued bringing them in, he'd find it difficult to obtain any more abilities. If he could convince Peter alone to help him, that would be good - Peter was like a sponge with abilities; if he got anywhere near the 'facility' where the super-prisoners were being kept, he would absorb all their powers. Of course, it would be even easier to convince anyone to help him - the government had recently revealed their secret to the world, and everyone was terrified. If Sylar took out the agents, not only would he have a clear shot at hundreds of abilities, but he could try to get someone to make the revelation look like an over-enthusiastic journalist had made a mistake, and done a lot of CGI on the security footage.

If Sylar could convince Parkman and both the Petrellis to help him, that would be excellent. Claire wasn't exactly useful in a fight - although she couldn't get hurt, these men would know where to shoot, and from what Sylar had seen, she was pretty rubbish in a fight. However, she was trusted by many super-powered people. She could help him convince people that the agents all had to be taken out. Only when that happened could people be safe.

Now, Sylar didn't particularly care about the safety of most people - it was mostly his safety he was worried about. Also, with building 26 out of business, he would know the names and locations of many more special people that he could... visit. Sylar smirked. He could probably get the younger Petrelli to help him if he told Peter that he would be helping people (but left out certain details, of course.)

Sylar looked up and registered his surroundings once again... he was almost at the top of the stairs leading into the centre room of the dilapidated old building. But as his foot touched the top step, there was a loud noise, like thunder rolling across the horizon. The earth shook slightly beneath his feet, and Sylar jumped backwards.

This area was not known to have earthquakes... was there an unknown 'special' in there, with the ability to manipulate the earth to do his or her bidding? Sylar had heard of terrakinesis before, but he had never met anyone with that amount of potential power. Still, obtaining an ability like that could be... interesting. Before he had finished taking his first step back, however, there was a flash of light that grew more and more intense until nothing could be seen. Sylar's world faded into a blur of intense light that felt like it was frying his retinas.

Then suddenly there was _heat_, a heat so penetrating he could almost hear the flesh sizzling off his bones. He yelled once. Then pain intensified, and Sylar's body stopped fighting it. He shuddered and gave in to the pulling.

-

The light faded, and with it Sylar's sight slowly returned. It was like when you look at an optical illusion - the type that you see afterwards when you blink - whenever Sylar shut his eyes, he could see that intensely bright flash. He blinked a few times, to clear his head of the blinding light, then stopped to think about what the _hell_ had happened. Sylar felt like he had just jumped off a thirty story building. His entire system was pumped with adrenaline, and his heart felt like it was being powered by a nuclear power plant. He slammed onto his feet, with such force that his knees buckled and he crumpled halfway to the pavement.

He slowly gained control of his trembling limbs, and looked around. It looked like he was still in the same place, but with his ability to understand how things worked, he knew he wasn't in the same place. That confused him. Had the light transported him somewhere? Or messed up his mind. Sylar looked around. _Ah_. There was something that wasn't there before. A group of school children, and a woman in her mid-30's - their teacher, probably. They were all frozen, staring at him in shock. However, it was shock, not the incredible fear that people felt when they looked at Sylar - _he_ had been one of the people who the government had labelled as a mass-murdering psychopath.

So if they didn't know who he was, where was he? Sylar heard of people with the ability to transport people - could it be possible that he was either in the past, before Nathan had turned on his own kind?

Sylar's eyes sped around the area he was in, then focused on what he needed - a newspaper. He reached out and gestured with his hand; the newspaper flew over into his hand. He looked at the date. 2009? Sylar thought back to the idea he had before - if people like Nakamura could teleport through time and to different places, could some transport people to different dimensions, or alternate realities where some decisions weren't made? Like the one to round up all the special people?

There was a gasp from behind him, and Sylar span around, remembering the school party behind him. They obviously had no clue who he was, and for some reason that irritated him. He had grown used to being the person who _everyone_ knew and feared. Then a thought occurred to him. If he could build such a memorable reputation on _his_ earth, what was to stop him from doing the same here?

Sylar looked over at the children, and his head tilted slightly. What better way was there to terrify people than hurting children. He gestured with his hand, and the fifteen children and their teacher slammed into the wall behind him. They started to scream and shriek, but Sylar clenched his hand - like he was crushing an invisible orange. The cries choked to a stop, and sixteen pairs of eyes bulged as the owners struggled to breathe. His smile tightened as he tried to keep them against the bricks - he had never tried to hold so many people still at once. He needed to do this quickly before they dropped. Sylar raised his right hand, and made a sweeping motion - left to right. Along the line, the children convulsed and died as their throats were slit by an invisible force. He stopped, so the only one left alive was their teacher. She looked much younger when she was pale, shaking and terrified. He threw her across the ground and left her there. There was no use in trying to build a reputation if no-one knew what was happening.

He looked around once more to check there were no more witnesses, then used he almost new ability to fly off.

Unseen by Sylar, the red, blinking eye of a CCTV camera looked on.

**CHAPTER ONE**

**HIDEOUT.**

There was a rumble, and the room shook slightly. The four people sitting quietly, huddled around a rickety table jumped at the unexpected noise. Peter, Claire, Matt and Nathan looked across the table at each other. The silence that weighed down the room was almost suffocating. They had been running for three days, stopping only to sleep and eat. Everyone was glad of the chance they had to relax and talk, but no-one knew what to say.

"So... ah... what do we do now?" Matt asked, hesitantly. As a telepath, he had a distinct advantage - he knew what people wanted to hear. Like now, for instance. He could tell that everyone was relieved to have the awkward silence broken by a practical question. Nathan cleared his throat.

"Well, I think this location is safe from agents. We should stay here for a while - until we can find out if anyone else escaped, or we decide what to do." _Or until the agents find us..._ he thought.

Peters head snapped up. As an empath, he could absorb the abilities of the people around him, so, like Matt, he could hear peoples thoughts.

"Thanks Nathan. Your optimism has been noted." Peter said, slightly sarcastically.

Nathan glared at his brother. _You're welcome, Peter_. Matt sighed, and broadcasted his thoughts into the two brothers' minds... _Come on guys. This is REALLY not the time for sibling rivalry. Ok?_ The brothers looked a bit angry at each other, but they both nodded curtly; a temporary truce had been formed. Matt briefly wondered how long it would last.

Claire looked from her biological father to her favourite uncle quizzically. She was the only one at the table who didn't know what Peter was referring to.

"What do you-" she began, but was cut off by a loud rumble. She fell silent and looked up. The single, broken light bulb hanging from the ceiling was swinging, scattering decades of dust on the hunted group gathered under it. More dust fell from the ceiling - dropping out of the darkness to be illuminated by the flickering glow of the violently swinging bulb.

"Maybe we should get out of here... what if the roof falls in?" Peter said quietly, keeping one eye on the ceiling. Although no-one said anything, all 4 of them knew that his concern was valid - the reason they had chosen this building to hide in was that it looked like the oldest one in the area. With unspoken agreement, everyone stood up and moved out.

That's when it happened. The earth began to shake again, making more and more dust started to fall from the ceiling. But Matt, Claire, Peter and Nathan all heard the crack that echoed through the building... the crack that ran down the centre of the ceiling.

"Go go go!" Nathan yelled, and the four of them sprinted towards the exit. In the lead, Claire took the stairs two at a time, with Nathan and Matt running right on her heels. Peter was immediately behind them. Claire reached the top of the stairs. The harsh sunshine outside was blinding after the musty, gloomy shelter. Claire took two steps forward, then skidded to a stop. _Sylar_! she thought, causing Matt and Peter to halt. Nathan slid to a stop and looked at them questioningly as they started to back slowly down so they were still out of the collapsing building, but could still see Sylar; he was standing still, like he was lost in thought.

Then there was a sudden bright flash of light, and Sylar was jerking and convulsing on the spot. It looked like something was ripping him up from the inside. The brightness intensified, and everyone was forced to look away. Despite the fact that Claire and Peter could heal, they couldn't see anything anyway. About a minute later, they heard Sylar scream; once, long and full of pain. They might have felt sorry for him if it wasn't for his record and the fact that they were all so shocked. Several seconds later, the light had faded. It was gone, but so was Sylar.

Matt cast his thoughts out ahead of him. He registered Claire's shock... and nothing. There was no-one else apart from Claire, Peter and Nathan with him. Sylar was gone. But what had caused the light?

"What the HELL was that?!" Nathan exclaimed. He looked to the others, who were scanning the area. Then he turned his gaze on his brother. "Do you know anyone with the ability to do that?" he demanded. His line of sight flickered between Matt and Peter.

"Why are you asking them, and not me?" Claire demanded. She looked a bit cross, having been excluded from the group.

"I asked them first, because Peter absorbs other people's abilities. He would know if anyone could do that, because he would be able to do it. I asked Matt for an obvious reason. He would be able to tell if anyone could do that because they might be thinking about it." Nathan replied testily.

"But-"

"Enough, Claire. Don't worry." Peter interrupted, quietly. Claire immediately silenced. Of the three adults with her, Peter was the one she trusted the most. "And anyway, I _don't_ know anyone like that. I didn't even know it was possible to do that. Or what _that_ was." He finished.

"Matt?" Nathan turned to the ex-cop.

"Nope. I don't know anyone. But I didn't hear anyone there... whatever it was, if someone was doing it they were doing it from far away." Matt stated. "But we know one thing."

"We do?" Claire looked doubtful. But Peter looked up. He had sensed Matt's train of thought. Or he had been listening in.

"Yes. We know that Sylar escaped." Peter's face darkened. "We have to find him."

"Oh great. And how do you suggest we do that? _Without_ being caught by agents?" Nathan muttered. Peter frowned at his brother. But, as much as they hated to admit it, he had a point. None of them had any idea where Sylar had gone. Then Peter looked up, grinning.

"Good idea, Matt. But do you know where to find her?" Peter said. Matt turned on him.

"Peter, will you _stop_ reading my mind? I _will_ tell you things, you know. Keep out of my head." Matt said, angrily. Peters face went serious and he nodded.

"Sorry."

"Anyway, back here where we _can't_ hear each others thought...?" Claire hinted. Nathan glanced at Matt and Peter expectantly. They looked at each other. Peter raised an eyebrow questioningly, as if asking permission to continue. Matt sighed, then nodded curtly.

"Molly." Peter supplied. "She could find him. He could be anywhere, and we'd know."

Claire's face brightened.

"That's brilliant, Matt. We'll know _exactly_ where he is!" She said enthusiastically.

"But Peter does have a point." Up until then, Nathan had just been standing there, listening to everyone talk, but not contributing any ideas of his own about how they could contact Molly. "How will we find _her_? We can't use her to find _him_ if we don't know where she is." Matt glared at him.

"OK, first thing is, no-one is _using_ Molly. We will _ask_ her. Secondly, I can call Mohinder. He'll know where she is. Then we can call her, or whoever she is with." He said, protectively. After all, Claire remembered, he had been Molly's guardian for a few years.

"But will that be safe? For us or them. Won't the calls get traced?" She asked. There was no point calling and getting a location if they would all be picked up by agents.

"Actually, I have a phone... I had it made so it can't be easily traced." Nathan interjected. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a very fancy, high-tech looking phone.

"When you say 'easily traced'... what do you mean?" Peter asked, frowning. He stared at the phone. "And where did you get that made?"

"It was made by the government. That is one of the advantages of being congressman." Nathan said, with a smug expression. "And when I say 'easily traced,' I mean if anyone tries to trace it, they will only get the location of the caller." He looked less happy about that.

"So, just to clarify... You mean they'll know where we are? But not Suresh or Molly." Claire affirmed.

"Yes. But that won't be a problem - they probably won't know who we are, so Matt and Peter can get rid of them." Nathan countered.

"Ok then. Let's call."

Nathan handed the phone to Matt.

"You do it. Molly will be happier to talk to you, anyway." He explained. Matt smiled slightly and reached for the phone.


	2. Chapter 2: Locations

**ALLIES.**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Heroes, Supernatural, Dr Who or Torchwood, and I never will.

Please review! Feel free to make any suggestions or point out any mistakes. (I won't get cross.)

**CHAPTER 2**

**LOCATIONS**

"Ok, what did Molly say? Do you have a place?" Peter demanded, as soon as he re-entered the room. He handed out the food and bottled water he had brought back. It was interesting to see who went for what item - Matt and Claire went for the water, while Nathan went for the food.

"What?" He said, defensively. "I'm hungry!" Peter sighed.

"Anyway? Matt? Where is he?" Peter insisted. Matt had spent so long on the phone that Claire had started pacing... Or at least it _seemed _like the conversation had dragged out for much longer than necessary – what with the potential threat of agents descending on them at any moment, everyone's nerves were stretched tighter than usual... or what would have been usual, a few months ago. Claire kept pacing. She had let the conversation between Matt and Nathan fade into the background when Peter had been gone, but now it looked like they were going to get a shot at Sylar.

"That's the problem. He's _here_..." Matt pointed to a place on the map that Peter had also purchased. Everyone leaned over to see, and Claire looked confused.

"But there's nothing there. Not even a place name. It's just forest. For miles. Why would he go _there_?" She asked, bewildered. Then the rest of Matt's sentence processed. "Why is it a problem?"

Matt looked like he was trying to decide how to phrase something, but couldn't think of a way to make it make sense. Nathan stepped in.

"Molly was being cryptic." He said. "She actually sounded confused herself."

"Why? What did she say?" Peter asked curiously.

"She gave me the co-ordinates, but then she said 'but he's not in our system.'" Matt interrupted. He frowned. "The only thing is, none of us are sure what that means." He looked up at Peter. "Please tell me you have an idea what she might mean?" He asked, hopefully. But Peter looked just as perplexed as everyone else.

"No... sorry. I have no idea what she meant. I don't know why he'd go to there, either.... why would he go to a place in the middle of some woods in Colorado? I mean, it's not like it's a major city or anywhere near where we are now." Peter frowned, trying to see the reason behind Sylar's decision.

"Oh well. I guess we should move out, then." Nathan stood up. When the other three stared at him he shrugged. "What? It's something to do. We can head towards Colorado."

"And then what? We waltz into the middle of the towns nearby and put up 'Have You Seen This Man?' posters?" Claire asked incredulously.

"No, we could call Molly again..." Matt volunteered, hesitantly. Claire raised an eyebrow at Peter, who understood he look.

"But I thought you didn't want to involve Molly." Peter pointed out.

"I don't, but we need to find Sylar. If we don't, and he starts killing people, then no-one normal will ever trust any of us." Matt countered. Claire nodded – she hadn't really thought about it like that.

"Ok. So... Colorado?" Nathan proposed.

"Colorado." Matt confirmed.

After half an hour of walking, they had found a diner, packed with dull, average people.

While Claire glared enviously at their normal, boring lives, Peter and Nathan watched in amazement as Matt hot-wired a car. He looked up and was them grinning at him. The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile as he explained his skill.

"You do pick up some interesting skills as a cop." Peters smile widened.

"You _have _to teach me how to do that." He insisted. Peter hadn't been to keen on the idea of actually stealing the car, but he was won over by the others arguments. They climbed into the beaten up, rusted old car, and set off.

Six hours later, they were still on the road. Claire and Peter were sitting in the back. Both were passed out asleep. Matt and Nathan were sitting in the front. They were still trying to decipher what Molly could have meant. The seating arrangements were like this, because both Nathan and Peter had agreed that they would probably start to argue if they sat next to each other.

They kept driving.

When they all agreed that they were about an hour from the woods, and houses were starting to appear in random places, they decided to stop. They needed to ditch the car and find somewhere to rest in safety, anyway. They also all acknowledged the fact that they would have to dump the car somewhere far away from wherever they were going to camp out. Besides, the car was almost out of fuel, and none of them wanted to risk getting it filled up again.

Relieved, the four of them dragged themselves from the car. Claire had never guessed that eight hours in a car would be so uncomfortable. Especially in bad traffic.

They covered the car with some dead branches lying on the floor. It'd probably be found sooner rather than later, but it was always better to try.

"Everyone ok?" Peter checked. They all stared at him. They had been sitting in a car all day. The only problem was the stiffness in everyone's limbs. "Ok ok. Sorry. I was just checking!" he said, resignedly.

Everyone turned and looked into the deep, dark woods. The sound of animals and birds were echoing. It was a bit disturbing.

"Let's go then." Nathan strode out ahead, and the other three followed close behind. After a brief argument they had when they were walking, they agreed on an order. Or rather, Claire and Matt agreed with Peter's idea, and Nathan was outvoted. They walked in a line: Matt in front, then Nathan, who was followed by Claire. Peter brought up the rear. This was the sensible thing to do; Matt could scout ahead with his mind, and with Peter behind them with _his_ telepathy, they wouldn't get taken by surprise from behind either. The only reason that Nathan was in front of Claire was that he refused to walk any closer to the back. Claire looked happy about that though – it meant she could walk closer to Peter, who she would much rather talk to than Matt or Nathan.

After two hours of walking through dark, damp and unsettling woods inhabited by the you-can't-see-me-but-I'd-eat-you-if-you-got-close-enough types of animal, they found an abandoned cabin. With unanimous, unspoken agreement, the exhausted group stumbled towards it. Nathan reached it first. He pushed the door. Nothing. He pulled the door. Still nothing.

Matt produced the emergency torch that had been in the door of the car, and handed it to Nathan. After several attempts, the dim light of the torch flickered into life. Nathan directed the yellow beam of light onto the door handle. _Ah._ _That would be the reason it wouldn't open._ He thought. There was a padlock on the door, almost the same size as his fist. Nathan swore, quietly.

"Who even buys padlocks that size?" He muttered angrily to the others. "How the hell are we going to get in there?"

"Like this." Peter growled. "Move." He didn't wait for his brother to comply – he moved forward and shoved Nathan to the side. Then he turned his attention on the lock. He reached out with his right hand, and clenched it. Then he pulled his hand sharply to the left. With a loud bang, the padlock was ripped from the door and disappeared into the darkness.

"Telekinesis. I approve." Whispered Matt. Then something odd happened. The ground rumbled and shook slightly. But it passed, and they were all too tired to care.

Peter wrenched open the door. In that same second, the ground trembled again, and he had the oddest sensation. It was like when you are on a rollercoaster, going at full speed on a downward curve. That dropping sensation that flattens you and causes the adrenaline rush... except this time instead of pulling him along a metal track, a bright light had appeared. And this bright light looked terribly familiar. The light intensified, and seemed to be pulling him even harder. It grew so bright Peter was forced to close his eyes. He heard Claire cry out beside him, and reached out towards her. His hand caught hers, and they held on, needing to know that there was something else besides the light.

The light re-doubled, but now came a sudden, blistering pain. He heard the others scream – even Claire. And that was when Peter knew something was wrong – Claire didn't feel pain any more. Ever. So what was it about this light that broke through even her protection?

But still the light intensified, and with it the pulling and the pain. He could feel his whole body shaking as he fought to overcome the forces acting on him, but he couldn't do it for long. It had been a rough, long day, and he just didn't have the energy. In less than two minutes, he was on his knees. Then he surrendered to the light, and let the unseen pull move him wherever it wanted. The world faded to white.


	3. Chapter 3: First Impressions

**ALLIES.**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Heroes, Supernatural, Dr Who or Torchwood, and I never will.

Please review! Feel free to make any suggestions or point out any mistakes. (I won't get cross.)

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

**FIRST IMPRESSIONS**

Dean Winchester looked at his younger brother incredulously. Sam had woken him up at 7.30 in the morning, for _this?_

"C'mon Sam, really? Colorado?" He said, exasperated. "We've been there before, haven't we?"

"Yeah. Twice." Sam looked up from his laptop. "The wendigo and the vampires. Remember? Where we got the Colt. But dude, some really weird stuff is going on down there. Look at this..." Sam stood up and twisted his laptop around on the table so Dean could see the screen clearly.

An image of a newspaper flashed up. Dean ignored the heading – he didn't really care that much about the media exaggerating stuff – and read the story. A body had been found, in Pike National Forest, Colorado. The victim was male, and he had been killed by a horizontal slash across his forehead. No fingerprints, no tracks, no sign of a scuffle.

"Ok, that _is_ weird, but it doesn't look demonic or anything."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"That's what I thought. But look..." Sam leant forward and opened the other five tabs on the webpage.

"Whoa." Dean blurted. They all showed the same story – people found dead, all with the same horizontal scar across their head. "How many?"

"Seventeen." Sam said darkly. "Then I saw this."

A final news story came up – a group of fifteen school children had been killed in a similar way, but the teacher had survived.

"The adult survived? How?" Dean demanded.

"Not a scratch on her. She had a sore head. That's it. But they locked her in the nut-house. She kept saying a man did it with his mind, like they do in stories. Only there was no evidence to say that anyone else was ever there, so they think she's either in shock, or that she–" Sam started to explain.

"And this nut-house is...?" Dean hinted. His brother meant well, but Dean was _really _not in the mood to be lectured about what psychiatrists argued about.

"There's a mental health facility in Colorado. They airlifted her there."

"Why would they take her there? Wasn't there anywhere closer?"

"I don't know _why_ they moved her there. I just know that they did. Anyway, that's not the point. I looked at all the different locations, and plotted them on a map." Sam reached over to the table, the pushed Deans bag onto the floor. It landed with a loud thump that vibrated the floor.

"Dean what the _hell _is in that?" Sam said, astonished. It had weighed a tonne.

"Does it really matter, Sammy? Map, remember?" Dean pointed out.

"Right."

Sam rolled out the now slightly flattened map. Dean saw a trail of red markers. All in a straight line. He raised his eyebrows, surprised.

"Wow. So whatever it is, it's heading for something?" Dean guessed. It was that or some supernatural beastie was just bored, and going on a road trip, but somehow that seemed less likely.

"Yup. That's what I thought." Sam affirmed. "We gonna go check it out?"

"How are you planning to do that? We won't be able to catch up with it." Dean said.

"We could get Cas to take us." Sam said, with his favourite _'duh, you idiot, why didn't you think of that?' _expression. "That way, we'd get there before it moves on again."

"But what about my _car?_ I am not abandoning her."

Sam sighed.

"We'll only be a few days, Dean. Don't be so dramatic. Can you call Cas?" He said.

"What, now?" Dean was surprised – they'd only just got _back_ from a job. He had been looking forward to at least one day of food and sleep. Sam, however, glanced up blankly.

"Why not now?" he frowned.

Dean sighed. This was an argument he was going to lose. He pulled on his jacket, then reached for his phone.

"Dean? Where are you?" Castiel's voice echoed through the static. Another reason Dean hated this hotel – crappy phone reception. Dean reeled off the name of the hotel, and the room number.

"Cas, we were gonna ask if-" Dean cut off as he walked straight into the angel. He hung up the phone, then looked pointedly at Castiel. "C'mon man, we've talked about this. You can't just _poof_ right in front of people."

"My apologies. What were you going to ask?"

"We need to go _here._" Sam pointed on the map. "Can you take us?"

"Of course." Castiel reached out towards the brothers.

"Whoa whoa whoa." Dean protested. "Not yet, Cas. Give us about ten minutes, ok? There's stuff we need. Like guns."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they were ready. Dean re-entered the room, having said a temporary farewell to his beloved Impala.

"About time." Sam complained. "How does it take you fifteen minutes to get three guns and a bag of salt from a car?"

Dean frowned.

"So? Anyway. C'mon Cas, let's go."

The angel reached out again. Dean and Sam both bent their knees, then there was a flash of light and the ground was ripped away from under their feet.

* * *

Dean blinked. They were in a smallish clearing, in the middle of a dark, threatening-looking wood. Despite the bright sun, the thick trees blocked out most of the natural light. That was why Dean looked relieved when Sam pulled two, heavy torches out of his bag – Dean _really_ didn't want to get jumped by anything in the dark.

"So... where to?" Dean asked.

Sam looked around.

"Well, we're at the right co-ordinates... do you see anywhere that some crazy whatever-it-is would hideout?" Sam asked.

"Nope." Dean stated helpfully. "Let's split up for a minute. Cas, you go that way. Sam, you go that way."

The three of them walked in opposite directions. Sam waded through the undergrowth. 30 seconds in, and he was soaked through from his knees down.

"OY, Sam! Cas! Guys! Over here." Dean yelled, somewhere off to his left. Sam spun around and made his way towards his brother, navigating a route through the waist-high brambles. As he reached Dean, Castiel appeared beside him. Completely dry. Dean noticed this too, and muttered something that sounded quite indignant.

"What is it, Dean?" Cas inquired, completely unaware of the disgruntled look that Dean was giving him.

"Over there." Dean pointed into the woods. Sam followed the direction of his hand, and saw a small, dilapidated cabin.

"You think something might be in there?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's the only thing I've seen so far where anyone _could_." Dean countered. "So let's go check, huh?"

"I doubt anyone will be in there." Castiel said.

When they reached the cabin, they saw why. There was a huge, rusted padlock on the door.

"Ouch. I don't think I could pick that." Dean said. "Cas, could you...?"

The angel looked at the lock and nodded. He walked forward and pulled on the padlock – there was a loud _CRACK_ and the hinge pin rocketed out. The lock fell apart and landed in two pieces on the floor. Dean whistled appreciatively.

"Nice. Wish I could do that. Much faster." He said.

"Yeah, Dean. Much more obvious that you've been there, too." Sam pointed out. Dean shrugged, then walked into the hut.

5 minutes later, the hut was completely searched. And empty.

"Dean, I don't think there's anything here." Sam pointed out.

"Gee, Sammy, d'ya think? I hadn't noticed." Dean said, sarcastically.

"Dean, maybe there is something-" Castiel stopped halfway through his sentence. That atypical Cas behaviour, so both Sam and Dean spun around. Castiel was frowning.

"Cas?" Sam asked, warily.

"There is something coming... but I don't know what it is. It isn't from around here." Cas sounded as confused as Sam looked, Dean noticed. Although, Dean probably had the same expression. The angel _always_ knew what they were up against. He mightn't know what to do about it, but he always knew what it was.

Then there was a sudden flash of intense light. It was so dazzling that Sam was forced to close his eyes and turn away from it.

The light slowly faded, and the red blur that had become all Sam could see faded. He turned around, slowly, to see what had been at its source.

Kneeling on the ground, gasping for breath, were four people. Three were men, and obviously adults. The fourth was a girl, who looked like she was in her late teens. She was blonde, and very pretty. She looked like a stereotypical cheerleader type of girl, except for the dirt, that covered all four of them, and indicated that she hadn't changed her clothes recently.

She was holding hands with the youngest looking of the three men. He had longish, straight dark hair. He looked quite tall and thin, and Sam supposed he was quite handsome. The man had dark brown eyes, and was wearing a very dishevelled paramedic uniform.

The second man was slightly shorter than the first, but he looked somewhat more solid. While the first looked more lightweight, this man looked sturdier, more solid. He was wearing a worn out suit, had shorter hair and eyes that were almost the same dark colour as the first man. Sam wondered briefly if they were related.

Then Sam turned his eyes on the third man. He was more heavily built than the others, and had short, black hair. He was wearing casual clothes, and looked more like an average guy.

All four climbed slowly to their feet, and Dean leapt into action. He jumped forward, and a jet of Holy Water sprayed out of the bottle in his hand. The newcomers gasped and they were soaked with the freezing liquid, but none of them smoked and writhed on the floor in pain as they would have done if they were possessed by demons.

The younger man had dropped the girls' hand. He looked up, and glared at Dean. Then something completely unexpected happened. He indicated with his hand, and Sam, Dean and Castiel were all thrown against the wall. Wait. _Cas?_ He had never seen anyone throw the angel like that, apart from Gabriel... then a thought occurred to him were these people angels?

"Who are you? What the _hell_ did you do to us? Where are we?" The man demanded. His eyes darted between Sam, Dean and Castiel, all of whom were still pinned to the wall by the unseen force.

"_Sam, Dean." _Sam heard Castiel's voice in his head. _"Two of them can hear your thoughts. I'm not sure which ones, but one is reading each of you." _He warned.

"Who are you?" The second man was talking now. "Are you working for Danko?"

"Danko? Who the hell is Danko?" Dean snarled. The man pinning them to the wall looked at him, then his gaze flickered to the rest of his group, like one of them had called his name. Then again, maybe one of them had – if two of them could read each other's thoughts they could communicate like that too, probably.

Sam stared warily at the three men and the teenager. Then he felt something in his head - like something has brushed lightly over the surface. He knew two of them could read minds; and Castiel had told him that one was reading him, and the other Dean. Is that what was happening, what that feeling is? But he didn't know who it was. An idea occurred to him, and Sam concentrated.

_**GET OUT OF MY HEAD!**_

The effect was immediate, and unanticipated. The man with who had been holding them up against the wall gasped. He fell to his knees, and clutched his head. Sam, Dean and Castiel all dropped off the wall - apparently Sam had sufficiently distracted the man. Dean looked surprised at the sudden release, and the pain that was evident from the way the man on the floor was holding his head, but he reached for his shotgun, which had fallen to the ground beside him.

Neither of the other strangers moved, but they all looked startled – Sam assumed that they were worried about their friend. He also noticed that, judging from the look on their faces, they were not used to seeing this man hurt.

Sam was shocked. That hadn't been the reaction he had been expecting. The man looked up - there was blood dripping from his nose. His gaze locked with Sam, and the man stared at Sam with an expression of pain and amazement. Apparently he hadn't been expecting that result, either.

"Peter!" The blonde ran and dropped to her knees beside him. Dean turned to Sam and raised his eyebrows. Sam sighed. Even in a situation like this his brother couldn't keep his mind out of the gutter. Anyway, it looked like the girl and this Peter were pretty close. She pulled him to his feet, but he kept his eyes on Sam. His expression had changed to something between curiosity and surprise.

"Peter? What happened?" The slightly older-looking man stepped forward. His eyes were flicking between Sam and Peter.

"His mind..." The man called Peter said. He sounded confused. Dean looked quickly at Sam, looking curious. Sam wondered if they were thinking the same thing - what was so different about his thoughts? Peter seemed to gather himself together. He turned on Sam and Dean, and looked at the men behind him.

"He could feel me in there. And he blocked me. Did you get inside his head, Matt?" The heavier built man shook his head. "Well don't. It'll hurt."

The sound of a gun cocking echoed through the room. Everyone turned. Dean had his gun pointed in the direction of the strangers. Peter and the blonde quickly backed up, so they were standing in front of the other two. Dean frowned, confused, but kept the gun pointed at the group. Sam slowly reached down to retrieve his gun as well.

"Ok, start talking." Dean said threateningly. The girl looked at the gun pointed at her chest, and smirked.

"Or what?" She asked. "You'll _shoot_ me?"

"Claire, _shut up._" The older man said. Then he looked back at Cas, Dean and Sam. "How did we get here?" he demanded.

"Sam and Dean Winchester. And that's Castiel." Sam said, pointing at who was who. Dean glared at him, but Sam just shrugged. They weren't going to get anywhere by staying where they were. And since he and Dean were the ones holding the guns, he was feeling more confident.

The younger man stepped forward again. "I'm Peter, as you probably guessed. This is Claire, Matt," he indicated the man with short, black hair, "and Nathan." He pointed at the older man.

"Right. And you're human?" Dean said. The man frowned.

"Yes. We're just... different." He tilted his head, in a very similar way to Castiel. "Haven't you been watching the news?"

"Different. Yeah. You could say that." Dean snorted. Peter glared at him and started to reply, but then his face went blank, and he spun around. The man called Matt did the same thing.

"Guys? What is it?" Claire asked warily.

"Sylar." Peter said. This meant much more to the group of strangers than it did to the Winchesters and Castiel, but the effect was immediate. The group backed away from the door.

"How close?" The girl whispered. That was answered by the look that Peter gave her. It clearly said _too close_. He concentrated again, then jumped.

"Get away from the wall!" he yelled at Dean, who jerked in surprise at being addressed, then registered the look on Peters face. Dean turned, and sprinted towards Sam and Castiel. Not a second too late. The entire east wall of the cabin blew outwards, along with some of the north. If Dean had been standing there, he would have been crushed by the brickwork. Dean stared at Peter in shock. Peter had just saved his life? But Peter didn't even notice the expression – he had his eyes fixed on the figure striding through the settling dust that had been the wall of the cabin.

A tall man with dark hair, thick eyebrows and a calculating expression stalked in. He looked up, and moved his hand in a similar way to how Peter had earlier. Except this time, all of them were slammed against the wall. Peter hit the wall next to Dean so hard that Dean felt the wall vibrate, but when he looked around at him, Peter seemed to be fine.

"Sylar." Peter said evenly. The man looked up, and a dangerous smile appeared on his face. Then he raised his right hand again, and made a shape like his hand was around an invisible neck. Dean panicked as his throat contracted and stopped the airflow. Judging from the choked gasps coming from all around him, he guessed that the same thing was happening to everyone else.

The world started to darken around the edges, and Dean wondered how they were going to get out of _this_ one.


	4. Chapter 4: Truce

**ALLIES.**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Heroes, Supernatural, Dr Who or Torchwood, and I never will. Poor me.

* * *

Please review! Feel free to make any suggestions or point out any mistakes. (I won't get cross.)

Sorry this took so long, I've been having internet issues on my laptop.

****

**ALSO: Thank you SO MUCH to the people who added this story to their favourites! You make my day, considering this is my first fanfic.

* * *

**

**FINALLY: Special **thank you to **shattered-clear **for my VERY FIRST REVIEW! THANKS! *squeals*

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

**TRUCE**

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

Dean looked up sharply at the man sitting across from him.

"Gone. AWOL. Absent. Not present. Take your choice." Dean retorted irritably. "The Peter guy threw the bastard who was choking us through a wall using his mind hoodoo thing, _nodded_ at us, like we were working together or something, then grabbed the other three and vanished. Like how Cas teleports us."

"Don't be so bitter, he saved out lives. Anyway, then Cas brought us here." Sam finished. "Bobby, do you know anything that has powers like that? They weren't demons – Dean soaked them with Holy Water. But I don't know what else they could be. I've never seen anything do that before."

"Doesn't Castiel know? I thought he was meant to know this sort of thing." Bobby frowned.

"Cas didn't have a clue." Sam brightened. "But I typed in descriptions on that tracker website, so we should be able to find out who they are."

Dean looked decidedly unenthusiastic at the prospect of any type of research, but he felt he should at least _try_ and help.

"And what about the other guy? Sylar, or whatever they called him?"

Sam's face darkened. He reached for his laptop and started clicking. Dean and Bobby moved behind Sam, so they could see what had made him so angry at whatever the guy had done. Finally, the webpage loaded.

Sam leant back so Bobby and his brother could see the screen. They sat in silence as they watched the mysterious man kill 15 children. Dean swore quietly.

"How the _hell..._ No wonder the guys in the cabin were so scared of him." Dean exclaimed.

"That was about 2 weeks ago. Right before the murders started happening." Bobby sounded determined. "Well boys, looks like you found your mystery monster."

"I'll see if I can find anything on him. The guy has to have a background." Sam reclaimed his laptop. Dean took the mention of research as his cue to leave.

"That's great. You have fun with your research, college boy. I need a beer." Dean got up and left the room, headed for the kitchen.

* * *

Six hours later, Sam burst into the room.

"Where's the fire, Sammy?" Dean said, sarcastically. After a day of unsuccessful scouring the internet for any mention of the mysterious quartet _or_ the murdering psychopath, he was not in a particularly good mood. According to every site, government and public, none of the people existed.

"I found them." That got through. Dean sat up, fast.

"Really? Where?" Bobby asked. Sam dumped his laptop on the table in front of Dean and Bobby.

"I just hacked into the security systems of most of the hotels, motels, whatever around here." He looked up at the two older men's surprised expressions. Sam raised an eyebrow at them. "Yes, I can hack into stuff. Anyway, this just popped up..."

Dean leaned forward. There, blown up to full screen on Sam's laptop, was a live feed from a hotel less than twenty minutes away.

"That room." Sam pointed towards the window on the second floor. "Keep watching... There!"

The pretty blonde girl, Claire, had just walked across the room. Dean felt a smile appearing on his face. Even with all those powers, they still needed to sleep.

"Can you zoom it in?" Bobby inquired. "We should check that they are all there _before_ we go barging in, you know."

Sam leaned over, and shoved Dean out of the way. His fingers moved quickly across the keyboard, and the camera view enlarged until all they could see was a few grey pixels. Dean looked up, and smiled brightly, but sarcastically, at his younger brother.

"Gee, thanks Sammy! That'll _really _help! I don't know _what_ we'd do without you!" Sam turned, and glared at Dean. Bobby leant across and smacked him across the back of the head.

"Shuddup, ya idjit."

Sam reached for the laptop again. A few more clicks, and the camera picture reduced until the screen was filled with the shot of the window.

"They're all there." Sam stated, about 30 seconds later.

"How do you know that?" Dean twisted around so he could see his brothers face. "The only one who has crossed the window in the last minute is Blondie."

"Yeah, but look... there's a mirror. You can see the others there." Sam pointed out, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Fine. Whatever, bitch." Dean grumbled. He stood up and walked towards the kitchen, probably to get another beer. Sam grinned.

"Jerk." He called after his brother.

Bobby rolled his eyes and sighed.

"No you don't. Back in here, boy." He yelled. Dean turned on the spot and came back into the room.

"Ok, fine. So where are they, Sammy?"

* * *

Half an hour later, Sam and Dean were sitting in the car park of the hotel. After much argument, it had been agreed that Bobby had to stay at his place. It wasn't safe for any of them if he came, because he wouldn't be able to help, and would be limited to his wheelchair.

"Right." Sam said. Dean went to the trunk of his beloved car, and opened his rather impressive armoury.

"So... we'll need Ruby's knife, silver bullets, salt shells, iron, the Colt..." Dean started picking up items as he spoke.

"Whoa whoa. Easy Dean, there's only so much we can carry. And why iron? You think it's a ghost possession?" Sam interrupted, before his brother got too carried away.

"I don't know what it is. _That's_ why we need everything." Dean snapped. Sam sighed – he had forgotten how grumpy Dean could get when he didn't know what he was up against. "Anyway, did you see the look on Castiel's face back in the cabin? We're up against _something._" Dean continued.

Sam frowned.

"No, I was too busy wondering how the hell that guy had us pinned to the wall than analysing facial expressions." Sam said, defensively.

"Well, he was looking at the girl like she was Lucifer himself, so I doubt that they are harmless."

"Ok. But we can't both carry all of it. We'll have to split it up." Sam said.

"Fine. You take Ruby's knife, I'll take the Colt."

There was the sound of rushing wings.

"Hey Cas." Dean didn't even look around. "You here to help?"

"Sam. Dean." Cas said, in greeting. "I am here because I am curious about the humans in that room. They are... _different. _Do you require assistance?"

"Humans?" Dean frowned. "No human has powers like that."

"Are they more of Azazel's kids?" Sam asked. _Where they like him?_

"No. But I also have information for you from Bobby." Castiel walked closer to Sam and Dean. He was looking mostly at Sam – probably because Sam had done most of the research, do he would make more connections with the cases. "There was another murder, at a hospital. At the same time, some syringes were stolen."

"Syringes? Syringes of what?" Dean looked confused. Castiel's piercing blue eyes turned on him.

"Adrenaline."

"Adrenaline? What the hell would he need that for? It doesn't make _any_ sense." Dean looked cross now. How _were they meant to find/kill this guy if he kept confusing them and doing weird things?_

"Actually, it makes perfect sense."

Sam and Dean spun around, guns coming up. It was the blonde girl from the other night. She was standing about two metres away, just watching them.

"What the hell are you doing? Who are you?" Dean demanded. The girl raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"What am _I_ doing? I'm not the one holding a gun at someone." She said, sarcastically. _Not that it would do much damage... _She frowned. "Where did your friend go?"

The brothers looked around. Cas was gone. _Probably gone back to Bobby's... _Dean thought.

"Doesn't matter. Who are you?" Sam actually sounded _curious_.

"Claire Bennet. You?" She replied, warily.

"Sam Winchester. This is Dean... he's my brother." Sam held out his hand. Claire walked forward, then jumped back in surprise as her name was called across the car park.

"Claire!"

Two of the other three men were running towards them. From what Sam could see, it was Matt and Nathan. Dean swore and leapt backward as Peter appeared out of thin air beside him.

"Hey." He greeted them, ignoring the shocked looks on their faces at his sudden presence.

The other two men arrived. Matt looked tense.

"Guys, something is wrong. I tried to call Molly again, but apparently the number doesn't exist. Never existed. Same with Daphne, Mohinder... everyone I tried to call."

"What, all of them? How is that even possible? Are you sure you have the right numbers?" Nathan looked sceptical. "Because we _need_ to talk to Molly if we are going to find Sylar."

Dean got fed up of being ignored. He held his gun up and pointed it towards the group.

"Question time. Who are you, _what_ are you, who are the people you are trying to contact and how do you kill the bastard?" Dean demanded. Peter frowned. Not angrily, but like he was trying to decide how best to answer a question.

"You know our names, Peter told you. We're human. We are trying to talk to Molly, who is basically Matt's daughter, so we can find Sylar. As for killing him... we need to find his 'sweet spot' to kill him." Claire told them. She had her eyes fixed on the gun, and Sam noticed that she had moved, like she had the other night, to place herself between the gun and her friends. "Now will you point that thing somewhere else?"

Something Dean had said suddenly registered in Nathans eyes.

"Wait. _You _are trying to kill Sylar? Good luck with that." He said disdainfully. Dean glared at him.

"He's right, though. Sylar will tear you apart." Claire said softly, looking at Sam. Then she remembered something. "And we have a slight problem. Sylar got his hands on some adrenaline syringes." Everyone looked confused.

"Did Suresh ever tell you how our abilities were activated?" Claire asked. Understanding flooded Matt's face.

"Of course, the fight-or-flight situation." He looked to Peter and Nathan. "In your case flight, I guess." They grinned.

"So... the adrenaline would jump-start your powers?" Sam asked, keeping the unspoken and tenuous truce in action.

"Yep. Think so." Claire said.

"And is this a bad thing?" Dean asked. Claire looked at him, then nodded.

"Very. We have to keep you away from him, Peter. At least until we get the adrenaline off him."

"Why?" Nathan asked. Peter turned on him.

"Oh, so you _want_ another Kirby Plaza situation? I don't remember that ending so well, Nathan." He said, angrily.

"Kirby Plaza?" Dean asked.

"Peter lost control, went nuclear and nearly took out New York." Claire said calmly, like it was nothing big. "Nathan flew him out into the atmosphere and he exploded. They nearly died." Sam looked at Peter in shock.

"You could do that?"

"It would probably be worse if I was pumped with adrenaline." Peter replied, uneasily.

"You know guys, I think a car park probably _isn't _the best place to discuss this." Claire said. "Is there somewhere we can go?"

"We could go to Bobby's." Sam suggested. Dean looked at his brother like he was mad.

"What? No way. He'd freak." He said, hotly. Sam didn't change his expression, but he pulled out his mobile and called a number. Everyone listened in on half of the conversation.

"Hi, Bobby? – Yeah, we found them. – No, they're not dead –" Claire raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged apologetically. "No, we don't need backup. Can we bring them to your place? – Yes. – We have a sort of... truce. They're looking for him too. – Ok. See you in a bit. Bye." Sam hung up.

"Well?" Dean asked. Sam nodded. "Seriously? He's letting you bring them?" Dean said in disbelief.

"Where are we going?" Peter asked.

"A friend's house." Dean told him.

"How long does it take to get there?" Claire asked.

"About 20 minutes, but... I don't think we'd all fit in the Impala." Sam looked thoughtful.

"Where is the place? On a map?" Peter asked. Dean looked surprised at the odd question, but he went to the trunk of his beloved car and started looking for a map. Nathan caught sight of the arsenal of weapons in the back of the car, and whistled appreciatively. Dean grinned, then held out the map.

"There." Sam pointed at Bobby's yard. Peter grinned at Sam.

"Do you trust me?" He asked. Sam looked at him, warily.

"Not sure. Why?"

"Because my way is much faster." Matt, Nathan and Claire seemed to understand. They all linked hands, then Claire reached and held Sam's hand, blushing slightly. Dean picked up the hint, and cautiously grabbed Sam's other hand.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked.

"Don't worry, we've done it before." Matt said. Peter grinned. He put one hand on the Impala, and the other on Dean's shoulder.

* * *

Sam blinked. One minute he had been looking at the pretty girl holding his hand in a car park, and now he was standing in Bobby's yard. He looked at Peter, who looked slightly pale, and thought about the man. He could move things with his mind, teleport and apparently he could also fly and create nuclear explosions. What else could he do?

"Well, Pete, your landings are much improved since last time." Nathan commented.

"Why, what happened last time?" Sam asked. He noticed that he hadn't dropped Claire's hand, but she didn't seem to mind.

"We ended up about three metres up in the air. Then fell. It hurt." Matt explained. Peter dropped his head, looking embarrassed, but grinning slightly. "So what are we doing now?"

"I guess we introduce you to Bobby."

Sam dropped Claire's hand, then led them towards the house.


	5. Chapter 5: Healer

Disclaimer: Same as last time. I STILL do not own Supernatural or Heroes

* * *

**ALLIES.**

**CHAPTER 5**

**HEALER**

Dean watched as Sam led the mysterious people to Bobby's front door. He had noticed how Sam was acting around the girl. It was obvious that he liked her, and Dean supposed that she liked him, too. Peter had, apparently, also noticed, but he didn't seem to mind. Maybe Dean was wrong, and he wasn't _with_ Claire. Dean's thoughts about his brother and the girl were sidetracked as Bobby opened the door.

Bobby stepped to the side and warily watched as Peter, Claire, Nathan and Matt walked straight through the Devils Trap inside his door. As soon as everyone was on the house, Bobby held out shot glasses to everyone. At first, the newest four didn't drink, and just stared suspiciously at the clear liquid, but they visibly relaxed once Sam and Dean drank theirs. After everyone had downed their drinks, they sat awkwardly around the table.

Uncomfortable with the silence, Claire asked;

"What was that? And what are all the symbols that are all over the place here?"

"Holy water." Sam said. "Bobby was checking you weren't possessed by a demon. Same with the symbols – they're Devil Traps."

"Demons. Right. 'Cause that makes _perfect _sense." Nathan muttered. "Give drinks to the guys possessed by demons from Hell, but pull a gun on us? Thanks." Peter's mouth twitched, like he was holding back a smile. Dean, on the other hand, glared at Nathan.

"Yep. See, those drinks? If you were a demon and you drank that, you'd be writhing in the floor, screaming and smoking." He growled.

"So I guess you're not Hunters then." Bobby said. Claire shook her head, and Sam grinned at the confused look on their faces.

"Hunters kill demons. And witches. And ghosts. And basically anything supernatural. We hunt it, we kill it." Sam explained.

"We?" Matt picked up. "Is that what you two do? Is that why you're finding Sylar?"

"Yep." Dean said.

"How long?" Nathan asked. Unlike earlier, when he had just looked sceptical at the idea of demons, he looked interested now.

"All our lives." Sam said quietly. Since the demon had killed their mother, they had been raised in a hunter lifestyle. Sam let his mind drift to all the different hunts he had been on... demons, wendigos, ghosts, shapeshifters, werewolves-

"Werewolves? Seriously?"

His train of thought lost, Sam looked up in shock at Matt, who was looking amazed.

"Yes... How did you...?"

"Telepathy." Matt suddenly looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, it's like a reflex. I'll stop."

"Are you a Hunter too?" Claire turned and looked at Bobby, who nodded. "Is that why..." She gestured at the wheelchair. Another nod. Peter suddenly looked up, and Dean noticed that he hadn't said anything the entire time.

"You had an accident? I mean... it's not a genetic disorder?" Peter asked. Bobby glared coldly at him.

"There was a... incident with a demon. What's it to you?" He growled.

"I could heal you." Peter replied simply. He stood up. "Do you want me to try?"

Dean's head jerked up in surprise when he heard that. Sam's jaw dropped. _Heal Bobby?_ Dean looked at Bobby, who was sitting right next to him. Bobby looked shocked, his anger at the younger man forgotten. His mouth opened, like he was about to speak, but then he just nodded mutely. He pulled his chair out from the table as Peter walked around the table so he was standing next to him, right behind Dean.

"How are you going to do it? What are you going to do?" Bobby asked.

"I... I'm an empath. I can absorb people's abilities, and a while back I met a boy, Jeremy. He could heal things... and he could kill them if he lost control." He looked at Sam and Dean. "Another problem with an injection of adrenaline – anyone who touched me would die." He looked back to Bobby. "Anyway, I know what I'm doing – I healed a friend's brain tumour, and I've been working as a paramedic, so don't worry."

"You healed Hiro?" Matt asked. Peter nodded, and Matt grinned in relief.

Peter held is hand out towards Bobby, then paused.

"You sure you want me to do this?" He checked. Bobby nodded, and Peter put his hand on Bobby's shoulder. He closed his eyes, and concentrated on whatever it was he was doing.

No-one in the room moved, but Dean and Sam kept a close watch in case it looked like Peter was hurting Bobby at all.

Less than two minutes later, Peter opened his eyes and stepped back, breathing hard. Sam noticed Claire frowning, then realised why. Peter was pale and his hands were shaking, but he looked steady enough as he looked at Bobby.

"Ok... done. Try to stand up. Slowly, remember you haven't been using the muscles for a while. They may need some time..." he trailed off into silence as he swayed slightly on the spot. If Sam hadn't already been watching him because he was worried – Peter was looking slightly ill – he wouldn't have noticed, and he didn't think anyone else had.

Eyes went back to Bobby, and the Winchester brothers gasped when Bobby got slowly to his feet. He looked at everyone, and a large, child-like grin spread across his face as he walked towards them. Peter smiled slightly, but he looked exhausted.

Then Bobby did something completely unexpected – he turned to the young man he had just met and hugged him, before turning and striding around the table. All eyes were on Bobby again, so Bobby was to only one who noticed when Peter swayed again.

"Peter?" Bobby's smile vanished, and everyone turned to see what was wrong. Peter was as white as a sheet now, and his eyes were half shut. Dean leapt to his feet as Peter swayed a third time, then grabbed at the younger man's shoulders as his eyes fell completely shut, his knees buckled and he slumped towards the floor. Everyone jumped up as Dean lowered Peter to the floor, suddenly aware that Peter looked younger than Sam. Peter lay on the floor, white and unconscious, but when Dean found a pulse it was normal, as was his breathing.

"He's ok." Matt said. "That's one of the effects of the ability. He had to use his own energy to heal you." The last comment was aimed at Bobby, who glared at him.

"Are you blaming me?" Bobby demanded.

"What? No. I was just explaining. He's just exhausted – he'll sleep it off, don't worry. Give him a few hours." Matt said.

Dean picked up Peter and carried him upstairs, followed by Bobby. They set Peter up on a bed, then went back downstairs.

Claire looked up as Bobby re-entered the room. Despite Peter collapsing, it was clear that he was elated with the regained use of his legs.

"Where's Dean?" Nathan asked.

"He went to find a friend he thinks you should meet." Bobby replied. "Does anyone want food? If so, that's good, you can cook some for me too, 'cause I can't cook a thing."

It was like a spell had been broken. The worried atmosphere in the room evaporated, and everyone laughed. Claire looked at Matt.

"Matt? You're a father. Can you cook?" She grinned. He rolled his eyes, but stood up.

"Good. C'mon then."

Following Bobby, Matt, Claire and Nathan headed for the kitchen.

* * *

Sorry for the short chapter! I'll write another one ASAP, promise.


	6. Chapter 6: Nephilim

**ALLIES.**

DISCLAIMER: Yup, that's right. I have nothing better to do with my time than write fanfics on stuff I own. Honestly. Nope, I own none of these.

THANK YOU to – another review, I am happy. *big grin*

-

**CHAPTER 6**

**NEPHILIM **

It was cold outside Bobby's house. It was dark as well, so if Cas didn't show up soon, _stuff it._ Dean was not going to stand outside for any longer than he had to.

"Castiel? Castiel! CAS!"

Dean sighed and turned back to the house. If Castiel didn't want to talk to him, there was nothing he could do about it.

"Dean?" Castiel's voice came from behind him. Dean growled and spun around.

"About time! I've been calling you for the last 15 minutes. I thought that since you'd rebelled and all that you wouldn't have anything else to do... where were you?"

Castiel's sapphire eyes pierced into Deans head as he considered the question.

"I was... researching."

Dean raised an eyebrow. An angel of the Lord, with amazing powers, stuck in the middle of the apocalypse jump-started by the _other_ angels... was spending his time researching.

"Researching. Right. Researching what? You could have just asked Sammy."

Castiel's eyes narrowed and he frowned at Dean. His head tilted to the left as he registered the disbelief in Dean's voice.

"I was trying to find information on who your new... friends are."

"Ah." _Well, that makes much more sense than Cas looking into a case. _"Any luck?"

Castiel frowned again, and Dean saw an emotion rarely detected on the angels face – confusion.

"Three of them are human. They are almost biologically identical to you, your brother... except for one mutated gene. The fourth, however... I do not know what she is."

"Wait wait. She? The girl? She's not human?" Dean's mind worked furiously as he hoisted himself up so that he was sitting on the front of one of the cars in Bobby's yard. It was getting colder, and he probably needed to get back indoors _before_ Sam came to find him. "Well, what is she then?"

Again with the head-tilt from Castiel. Even if Dean could not see any of his friends face, he would know the expression that accompanied the movement.

"I just said that I didn't-"

"Rhetorical question, Cas. Don't worry. If you had to _guess _at what she was, what would you say? Seen anything like her before? Is she a threat?" _May as well be practical. If the girl needed to be taken out, it should be done soon, before Sammy gets any closer to her._

"If she was naturally from this dimension, I would say that she-"

"Dimension? Back up." Dean interrupted. Castiel made an exasperated sound, but tried to explain.

"Yes Dean, dimensions. When major decisions are made, natural disasters or any biological change occurs, alternate realities are created." Castiel's face was emotionless, like he was discussing the weather, not other worlds. "I believe these people are from one of these, where a genetic mutation gives them abilities such as the telekinesis you witnessed in the cabin."

Sometime during that conversation, Dean's jaw had dropped, and he was staring at the angel in front of him with new eyes. How could Castiel have found this information? _It's not like you can type it into Google..._

"Like parallel worlds. So they are 'normal, but different.' That's what Peter said. So they're human, fine. What's the girl?" Dean asked.

"Like I tried to say-" Castiel started again. Dean smirked, and rolled his eyes. _This _he never thought he'd see. An indignant angel. Castiel's eyes narrowed, but he continued. "If she were from this world, I would say she was Nephilim." Deans smirk vanished, and his eyes widened.

"Nephilim?" Dean repeated hoarsely. "As in, kids of angels and humans?" _Well, of everything Castiel could have said, that was __definitely__ not anything he had considered. Children of angels. Wow._

"Yes. When I look at her I am reminded strongly of a Nephilim I met. Thousands of years ago, before they were forbidden. Her... _aura _is very similar to his. The life force that surrounds her is almost identical to his. But I cannot sense any angel blood in her. She is a mystery. But no, she is not a threat. She cares for your brother."

Dean nodded, relieved. That was a plus. In fact, that was great. He didn't like the idea of going up against Peter, Matt and Nathan if he had to kill her – Peter alone would probably rip him to pieces.

"Dean, I believe that you will get more satisfactory answers if you talk to them yourself about their origins. They may know the answer to how they got here. I would also like to meet them."

Castiel started striding up towards Bobby's house. Dean checked his watch, swore, and ran after him.

"Cas. Cas!" Dean grabbed Castiel's arm to stop him blowing the door open. "Wait. It's 2am, man. They need sleep. Hell, _I _need sleep. Either come back at about 9, or hang around until everyone wakes up, ok? Besides, I don't know what would happen if you surprised any of them, so it probably wouldn't be the best idea to walk in on them in the middle of the night. You may end up thrown though a wall."

Castiel frowned, and seemed to be thinking hard about something. When he noticed Deans raised eyebrow, he just said;

"Very well, I shall return at 9."

Before Dean had the chance to ask what the angel had been considering, there was the sound of rushing wings and Cas was gone.

-

Peter gasped and bolted upright in the bed. His eyes flew around the room, and for a second he was consumed by panic as he failed to recognise the room he was in. _Oh god, oh god. Where the hell am I? Did the company... _

He stopped, closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing; forcing himself to think rationally. If the company had found them, there was no way he'd be conscious. Neither would he be left on his own in what was obviously someone's bedroom. As he calmed down, his memories returned.

_Bobby... I healed Bobby._

Of course. The toll on his strength from the healing... he must have blacked out.

Pleased that he had not accidentally destroyed anything in his moment of panic, Peter looked around the room. _Oh damn._ Well, almost nothing. There were two hand shaped scorch marks on the bed. Obviously the adrenaline rush had activated his heat radiation – one of the more alarming side-effects of panic. _Oh well. It could've been worse... at least I didn't blow up the house._

Peter stood up. Evidently too quickly; the head-rush vertigo caught him and he nearly fell back onto the bed before he regained his balance. He walked to the door; it was unlocked, thankfully. Hearing voices coming from down the hall, he followed his ears to find his friends.

-

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was eating breakfast – eggs, bacon, toast, the lot. Sam couldn't help but wonder where all the food had come from – he doubted Bobby had it in his house – but Matt seemed like a nice guy, so he didn't question.

"Hey, Samantha. Pass the bacon." Deans voice carried over everyone else's. Once Dean's plate was piled with _more _food, Dean looked up at the clock. Nearly 9.

"Ten... nine... eight..." Dean counted down the seconds out loud, and ignored the confused looks everyone was giving him. "Six... five... aaaaand.... accio Cas!" Dean yelled with a grin, waving his knife.

"_You _read Harry Potter?" Nathan asked, eyebrow raised, as Claire ducked to avoid the bacon flying from his knife. Dean went red, but before he could come up with a suitable excuse, the sound of wings filled the room.

"No way." A grin crept across Sam's face as he turned to see Castiel standing behind him.

"What's wrong, Sam?"

Sam just smiled and shook his head. Claire, however, stood up on the other side of the table and was glaring at the angel. Dean's smile faded as he took in the blonde girl's cold stare.

"Claire?" Now Peter was included in the confusion. "What's wrong?"

"I want to know what _you two_ were talking about. Last night. What do you know about me?" Claire demanded. Now she had everyone's attention. Deans thoughts went from uncertainty as to what the girl was upset about to anger.

"You followed me?" He asked, incredulous.

"What? No. The food was nearly done, so I went to _find _you. Thought you'd want some. What I _didn't _expect was to find you gossiping about us. Not to mention it makes no sense-" Claire broke off.

"Claire?" Matt asked softly. "What's wrong?"

"He said that I wasn't... that I wasn't human." She looked very upset. Then she turned on Castiel. "For the record? Both my parents are human. Isn't that right, Nathan." She said sarcastically. Dean's eyes widened in surprise; Nathan was Claire's father? Having heard the thought, Peter looked across at him and nodded.

"Yes, Claire's Nathans daughter. And my niece."

Sam was putting it all together. _So that means Peter and Nathan are brothers... wait, __**niece**__? No wonder they are awkward around each other. On the other hand, _the more selfish side of himself put in, _at least now you know they aren't together..._

"And _he_," Claire jerked her thumb at Castiel, "thinks he knows where we came from. Started going on about different dimensions..."

Heads spun as everyone twisted around to look at Cas.

"Different dimensions? How is that possible?" Sam inquired, a shocked expression obvious on his face.

"It could very well be possible." Peter pointed out. "If Hiro could move through time and space, maybe someone else could move through dimensions."

"Who's Hiro?" Dean asked.

"But there was no-one near us when we... moved." Nathan objected, completely ignoring Dean. "We would have noticed. _They_ would have noticed – that person would have been with us when we 'appeared.' And we saw when Sylar vanished; there was no-one there, either."

"So you think it was a freak accident." Matt stated.

"Could be..." Claire sighed, and moved to the window. She glared through the glass into Bobby's yard, as if the cars were to blame for the situation they found themselves in. "This is crazy."

"Says the girl who can't die." Peter snorted, while Bobby and the Winchesters looked shocked at this revelation. "I thought we'd all be used to crazy by now."

Claire turned her back on the window and looked at her friends, smiling slightly.

"Apparently not. But since we obviously have no idea how we got here, can I return to the other point? Even though you are _wrong,_" she said forcefully, "There might be something behind it." She looked at Peter. "You remember when Sylar took my ability?"

Peter's eyes darkened. "Yes?"

"He said he saw something... he told me I was different to the others; that I was special. Do you think this is what he meant?"

Peter opened his mouth to answer just as Sam started to ask how Sylar took peoples abilities. However, before either of them could get the first word out, a dark voice rang through the room; commenting on Claire's question.

"I did say that, didn't I? But no, that wasn't what I meant."

Everyone jumped and span around. Sylar was leaning on the doorframe, examining them with an amused expression. His eyes passed over Sam and Dean, like he was measuring them.

"You must be the Winchesters..." He said. His eyes fixed on Sam, and a predatory smile appeared. Sam suddenly felt uneasy – like an insect trapped under a glass while some six year old boy prepares to stamp on it.

"What did you mean?" Claire asked cautiously, drawing Sylar's attention away from the younger brother. Sam released a breath he didn't know he had been holding, relieved to be released from the icy stare. Sylar's smirk widened and he tapped the side of his nose.

"Me to know, you to find out. Maybe. But as for your first question – how we got here. _I _got here by a freak accident. That light? That was a rip in space and time. Pulled me here. And you know how _good _I am at understanding how things work. I manipulated it, and _voila! _I have company! Thought this world would be more interesting though, once I knew what had happened. Anyway, I've been wanting to try again to find a world where the people _do _have abilities, and since I'm in such _wonderful _company..." Sylar shut his eyes and concentrated.

Everyone gasped as a white light started to fill the room. Dean was reminded of the time when Castiel had taken on an Archangel for him – the bright, _pure _light that filled the room reminded him of the fury of heaven. His eyes flashed around the others – _what the hell do we do now?! _He thought desperately. But their expressions were as horrified as his was.

The light grew, and with it a heat started to burn them softly.

Then Dean saw Matt concentrate hard on something. Peter's face suddenly went blank, and he _flew_ straight up. Literally straight up. Through-the-_ceiling-_and-_roof _straight up.

Then the light and heat intensified, and a faint tug started pulling them God knows where. Dean was pulled back in his mind; back to his memories of Hell; in the few precious moments when he wasn't torturing or being tortured, when the skin was being roasted from his bones. The light grew so much that he was forced to shut his eyes – he held up his hand to protect them further, and some part of his brain noted that he could see the outline of his bones through his hand and eyelids.

The heat magnified to an unimaginable extremity, and Dean heard everyone around him screaming. The strength of the pull escalated, and Dean knew no more.

-

**Ok, another chapter! Hope it isn't too bad... ***nervous laugh*****

**ANYWAY – THANK YOU to everyone who reads this, SPECIAL thank you to people who add this to their Story Alert / Favourites / Whatever, and an Extra-Special-Thank-You-With-Hot-Chocolate-And-Cookies-And-Hugs to people who read this and review. Wow. I bet that looks really silly if you just wanted to read it and not bother reviewing or anything, sorry. But still. Thanks guys! **

**NOTE: If anyone has any suggestions or ideas or whatever that they want me to include PLEASE review and tell me and I'll think about it.**


	7. Chapter 7: New Aquaintances

**ALLIES.**

DISCLAIMER: Yeah, same as always. I _still _don't own anything. I'll let you know if I ever do though :)

Just so you know, anyone who watched the 'Children of Earth' Torchwood, I wanted to have Ianto and Jack in this (obviously) so this is set a couple of weeks after 'Exit Wounds.'

In the Doctor Who timeline, this is _before_'Journeys End' etc when Donna becomes the Doctor-Donna and all that.

**CHAPTER 7 **

**NEW AQUAINTANCES**

"Jack! We've got rift activity!" Gwen shouted across the room, her voice rising in panic. The lights in the Torchwood hub started flickering as the machinery registered the changes in the hole in time and space situated right above them. Ianto ran up the stairs to see the computer monitoring the rift activity. His eyes widened... _how is that possible?_

"But these readings... Jack!" Ianto's eyes locked onto his boss, who was in the process of sprinting to see what had his two remaining colleagues so worried.

"What? What's wrong with it?"

"Jack, the readings are just as high as when that _thing..._ Abaddon came through the rift!" Ianto yelled. Jack went white as he remembered the 'great devourer,' the demon that towered over Cardiff, killing anyone who stood in its shadow. _Even me. _Jack shivered as he remembered the feeling of having his life force, the energy that kept him alive through everything, being painfully extracted.

Suddenly, without warning, all the electronics in the room went mad. Light bulbs and computer screens flashed then went blank, and sparks flew. An invisible burst of energy passed over the room, and Gwen yelled in surprise. The team instinctively gravitated towards each other as the room went dark, the only light coming from the hole left by their 'magic lift.'

The team huddled together, trying to decide if that was it. Then a glow appeared out of no-where. It had no source, but it was rapidly getting brighter and brighter.

"Something's coming..." Jack whispered. Gwen glared at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really? What gave that impression?" She hissed quietly.

The light flared and vanished, briefly illuminating seven humanoid figures – six where standing together, with the seventh further away, not included in the main group. As the light faded, the emergency power kicked in, and the remaining light bulbs that had survived the energy blast flickered into life.

"Great. Well this is just _peachy._" One of the newcomers spoke, sounding distinctly human. That made the team relax slightly... maybe these people had just been pulled from a different time.

"Torchwood."

Ianto jumped. He hadn't noticed Jack standing up. Judging from Gwen's surprised expression, she hadn't either. He stood up to get a good look at the newly appeared people. There was one blonde girl and six men. Two of the men had dark brown/black hair – it was difficult to tell with the dim light – but he could see that one was short and looked very lithe, but it was hard to tell because he was wearing a light-coloured trench coat that drowned his thin frame. The other looked normal; like any guy you could see walking down the street. The girl was blonde, and looked like an average airhead cheerleader... if you ignored the light covering of grime, and the way her eyes were darting around the room; calculating and defensive, as if she expected to be attacked. She was standing close to a very tall, muscular man with long, floppy brown hair, who was looking around in disbelief like he didn't believe where he was.

_Which he probably doesn't... he just appeared out of no-where. Probably not what anyone was expecting._

The last two men standing with the group looked a little similar, but in the way they held themselves more than physically similar. They both looked hard, like they had seen or done something that they regretted. They looked more like the type of men you saw working with some parts of the police – the cops who'd seen the gore and cruelty, or been part of it. They both had brown hair, though one was several shades lighter, and he was also slightly shorter than the other man. The other difference was their choice in clothing. The man with lighter hair was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, whilst the other was wearing a slightly beaten-up looking suit.

The seventh man was still standing away from the other six, making no indication that he was going to move any closer to the rest of the group_... like most people would if they had just been pulled through a rift in time and space with no idea where they were – wouldn't they move towards anything familiar? _Gwen thought. He had black hair, heavy eyebrows, _and damn he's hot..._ The larger guy with dark hair, who looks a lot Rhys, she thought, suddenly looked at her with an incredulous expression, like she had spoken aloud. Did he just read her mind...?

Before she could ask them anything, like where the _hell_ had they come from, she realised that the group of six were staring at the black-haired man who was standing alone. And they looked scared, or at least worried.

"What did you do?" The shorter man in the trench coat sounded amazed, but he looked horrified.

"Cas, I think it's pretty obvious _what_ he did. The question is _how_ he did it." That was the voice she had heard before seeing them. It came from the man with the leather jacket. Which just had a gun pulled from it. The Torchwood tem instinctively reached for their own weapons, an action not missed by the black-haired man. He put both his hands up in a sweeping motion, and something completely unexpected happened.

Everyone in the room, except the dark-haired man who everyone seemed wary of, flew backwards and smashed into the wall, the impact causing those with guns to drop them. Jack smashed into the corner of the railing on his way, and judging from the resounding _crack _that sounded in the room, smashed his skull and killed him. This wasn't such a big deal for Ianto and Gwen, who knew he would revive soon, but the new arrivals looked shocked.

Ianto opened his mouth to demand who the man was, but though his mouth worked, no sound escaped.

"No, don't talk." The man said quietly, forcefully. "Don't worry, I'll be gone soon. I always found life more interesting if _someone_ is hunting you." His eyes moved to the man who had reacted to Gwen's thought. "I'd stay and chat, but it seems I have a whole new world to discover. Oh, and Parkman, tell your girlfriend thanks."

The pressure holding Ianto to the wall vanished, and he fell to the floor. Everyone was released from the wall and the man smirked at 'Parkman,' before there was a _whoosh_ing sound and the man blurred out of the room, moving too fast to be seen. 'Parkman' went white and fell to his knees, a pained expression on his face.

"Daphne. He... he killed Daphne..." His eyes looked dead, and Ianto felt his heart go out to the man who looked so lost.

"Matt... I'm so sorry." The blonde spoke up, putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder. His eyes darkened, and Ianto felt a shiver of foreboding at the rage and pain on Matt's face.

"I am going to _kill _him..." Matt hissed, almost silently. Then he seemed to calm down. The pain and loss returned, and he slumped back against the wall, looking thoroughly depressed.

The silence was suddenly broken by a loud gasp from Jack. The girl pulled her hand from Matt's shoulder when she realised that Jack had just come back from the dead.

Ianto winced, and waited for the yelling to begin as the returning-from-beyond-the-grave situation sunk in and she freaked out. Instead, she sprinted to his side and grabbed Jacks arm, eyes shining with hope.

"You're like me?" She sounded shocked. Jack frowned, of all the reactions he had witnessed after dying, this had never happened before.

"What do you mean?" _How could she be 'like me.' No-one is like me. I'm impossible._

"You can't die." She stated. Jack nodded, wondering where this was headed. She practically _beamed_ at him. "Sam, give me your gun. Or your knife."

She held out her hand expectantly towards the man with the floppy brown hair, who slowly passed her a silver knife. The girl looked from the blade to Jack, then she suddenly thrust it hard into her arm.

"Claire, what the hell did you-" Sam jumped forward, then stopped and gaped, amazed. All eyes were locked on Claire's am, which was rapidly healing over.

Ianto and Gwen moved over and stood with Jack, who stood up and stared at the girl as all evidence of the wound on her wrist vanished apart from the blood which she was casually wiping away with the corner of her shirt. No-one knew what to say, really, so Jack tried to answer the man's earlier question.

"You are in Torchwood. Cardiff. Wales. Earth. I am Captain Jack Harkness, and this is Gwen Cooper and Ianto Jones. Who are you, _what_ are you, and where are you from?"

Donna was thrown to the floor as a loud _CRASH _sounded, and the TARDIS rocked. She pulled herself up to a standing position and saw the Doctor doing much the same thing, fingers already flicking switches as the TARDIS went quiet.

"Doctor?! What was that?"

"We hit something. I'm just trying to find out..." His words trailed off as he looked incredulously at the screen. Then his hands were back on the controls, frantically pulling levers and pressing buttons.

"Doctor? What do you mean we _hit _something? We _can't _have hit something. We're hundreds of miles up..."

He ignored her and kept adjusting the controls. Then he ran to the door and threw it open. A man fell through the door, landing unconscious on the floor. The TARDIS door was slammed shut, and Donna ran over. She stopped and swore quietly when she got a better view of the man.

"Doctor... his head..."

The man was quite tall, _or at least he __looks__ tall, it's hard to tell when people are lying down_, and he was wearing the type of clothes you saw people driving ambulances in. He had longish, dark brown hair, but it was matted with the blood that was coming steadily from a large gash just above his hair line.

"Donna, over _there_," the Doctor pointed, "Is a green box with a crescent moon on it. Bring it here."

Donna raised an eyebrow at the comment, he didn't usually tell her what to do, but she twisted around and reached for the green box she could see under the wire that made up the floor of the TARDIS. Then she heard the Doctor gasp, and say softly;

"Donna, wait. Look."

Donna turned around again, about to snap at him and tell him to make his mind up on what she was meant to do, but then she registered the look on his face. His eyes were wide, and he looked entirely amazed. Her eyes dropped to the man, still lying on the floor, and her jaw dropped. The damage done to his head was gone. The only evidence that remained of the injury was the rapidly drying blood that was set into his hair. The man coughed and groaned, eyelids fluttering.

"What is he? Is he an alien? He's what crashed into us, isn't he? How did he get up here?" Donna could not suppress the eagerness that rose in her. It wasn't every day someone crashed into the TARDIS, after all.

"Alien?" The man blinked and sat up, wincing when he felt the blood on his face. "_That _I haven't been called before. Do I _look _like an alien?"

"Well, no." The Doctor said, thoughtfully. "But on the other hand, neither do I. Who are you?" He turned to face Donna. "And yes. He did hit us." He looked back to the man, who was now crouched on the floor. "How did you get so high up? I didn't register any ships or aircraft in this airspace."

"Peter Petrelli." Peter's eyes darted around the TARDIS. "I'm _human. _And... uh... I can fly."

Twenty minutes later, and the introductions were complete. Peter leaned awkwardly against a rail in the TARDIS. A space ship. _He was in a spaceship_. But even stranger than that was the fact that he seemed able to cope with it. After everything he had seen – people flying and blowing cities off the map, for starters – being in a spaceship with an _alien _was obviously on the top of his 'Weird Stuff' list, but it could have been much worse. At least it was a _nice _alien who didn't want to invade Earth.

"He's telling the truth, you know." The Doctor, _odd name_, turned to Donna, who had a disbelieving expression on her face. Disbelieving, but amazed. Donna looked and met his eyes.

"Ok. So now what?" Donna asked.

"Now we do what we came here to do. We refuel."

Peter stood up straighter.

"Refuel?" He sounded curious. "How do you refuel? It's a spaceship, it's not like you can just fill it up at a garage or anything." He looked around. "And where exactly are we? We _are_ on Earth, right?"

"Yeah. We're in Cardiff. That is where he makes the pit stop." Donna sounded slightly scathing. Like she thought Cardiff wasn't the best place for a time machine to refuel.

"Cardiff? But... that's in England. Well, Wales. But I was in America..." He frowned.

"That's how we refuel. There's a rift, in time and space, over Cardiff. The TARDIS can absorb energy from it. The rift can also, occasionally, pull people from one time to another. Or, in your case, one dimension to another, apparently. There's a team based under the rift who work out what to do with whatever comes through. Sometimes it's aliens, or people, or artifacts..."

"Right. So... are we going to see them? Is that what you do when you wait for the TARDIS to fill up on... rift stuff?"

"We can. If you want, they might be able to find a way to send you back. And I haven't actually met the Torchwood team yet." The Doctor grinned. Donna smacked him lightly around the back of the head when he turned his eyes on her, silently asking if that was where she wanted to go.

"Ok. Let's go, Spaceman."

Jack looked around the Hub. It had been 2 hours since the materialisation of the 7 humans. Although one of them had vanished, the others had remained with the Torchwood team – they didn't have anywhere else to go.

They had agreed to the tests that the team had to run to ensure they were telling the truth, and they had described the worlds they came from. A world without aliens, but with genetic mutations that lead to super powered people.

And another world, without aliens or mutations, but with demons and angels, God and Lucifer. It was incredible. Now they thought they knew which dimension Abaddon had come from when he came out of the rift... no other dimension had demons, as far as they knew.

Jack had also learnt the names of the new arrivals... Dean, Sam and Castiel were from the realm with demons and angels. Sam and Dean were brothers who hunted demons, and Castiel was an angel. The team had been shocked and initially not believed them, but 10 solid minutes of arguing and 'Cas' displaying his powers changed their mind. _[A/N: I have gone against the TV show and decided that Cas can keep all his original powers :)] _The others, Claire, Nathan and Matt, had the genetic mutation that granted them abilities; Claire, as they had all seen, could heal, Nathan could fly, and Matt could read and manipulate people's thoughts. All very cool. From what they could gather, Nathan was Claire's biological father, but she had been adopted.

The pterodactyl shrieked overhead, pulling Jack out of his thoughts. Everyone, apart from the Torchwood team who were used to their noisy resident, instinctively ducked and raised their hands to protect their faces.

"You have a _pterodactyl?!_" Came the choked question.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Gwen joked softly, looking up at Sam.

"Let me rephrase then. _How _do you have a pterodactyl?" Sam grinned.

"It came through the rift. Ianto found it." Ianto jumped slightly at the mention of his name – obviously he hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation. "In fact, that's how Ianto joined the team." She continued.

Claire stood up and walked slowly around the Hub. It was a lot to take in... one different dimension was bad enough, but listening to Sam and Dean talk about the Apocalypse, then Jack and the team describe the multiple alien attacks on Earth was very nearly too much. Because yes, there had been some terrible things happening in _her_ dimension, but that hadn't had the potential to wipe out the human race... only a very small percent of it. She suddenly missed Earth, _her_ Earth. Her home, her parents, her brother... she even missed Mr Muggles, her mother's irritating pet.

"So what do we-" Claire was cut off halfway through her question as she gasped. Everyone else turned to look at her; expecting her to either finish her question or explain why she had stopped. Then they followed her line of sight. Jacks eyes widened and he started to smile.

A strange sound filled the room as a blue box appeared out of thin air.

**Just to say, I'm sorry about the delay. From now on I am aiming for one update a week, and I **_**was**_** planning to write more over the bank holiday last weekend. But then I remembered that I had a camp that weekend, so I couldn't do **_**any. **_**And a heads up, there probably **_**won't **_**be an update next weekend, because I have a D of E hike. Yay. Lucky me. Hmph. All I'm saying is, it had **_**better not rain.**_

**Aaaaanyway... **

**Last thing, I swear. Who watched Supernatural on thursday?  
(*counts raised hands*)  
Good! *cheers* And Cas is back! And human. Nearly? Or fully? Not sure I like that, but hey, at least he's back. :)**


	8. Chapter 8: Torchwood

**ALLIES.**

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Still. *sniff*

Ok, first:

Thank you to **The White Wanderer** and **JustAnotherMember **for adding this to their alert list, thank you to **ValiantPanther** and **Butchee **for adding this to their favourites. Also, thank you **pegasus**.**natalie** for reviewing! I LOVE YOU GUYS!  
*hugs all around, virtual cookies etc* :)

Stating the obvious, I know, but in this, the Doctor is the 10th Doctor. David Tennant, not Matt wazzisname. Matt Smith? ANYWAY just saying so you know :)

**Read this!** Ok, looking back I have realised that I have not thought this out very well. Inspiration struck and I was ok for the first few chapters, but now my brain has fizzled to a halt. Because of this, the story is **up for adoption** if anyone wants to continue it. If no-one does, I need to plan this so I don't just have a random series of chapters that are boring and don't go anywhere in the end. But I have honestly no idea where this is going, so it could be a while. Anyway, enough of my rambling...

**CHAPTER 8 **

**TORCHWOOD.**

Guns appeared from various places – holsters, pockets, tucked in belts – and were levelled at the blue box.

Jack snorted, and indicated that they should put down their weapons. The guns were lowered, but not put away – because as Dean said later on: it's stupid to face an unknown unarmed, apart from if you're Jack or Claire.

The box fully materialised and the _whoosh_ing noise faded. The Hub was silent as the 8 people in the room unfamiliar with the TARDIS studied it for any threat, and Jack watched on in amusement. Everyone jumped as the door opened, apart from Jack who jumped up and walked over as a tall, thin man wearing a suit opened the door and casually walked out into the Hub, looking around in interest. He seemed unconcerned about the numerous weapons held by the occupants of the room.

Close behind him was a woman with red hair. She too was observing the Hub with bright eyes and a smile. At the sight of the pterodactyl she jumped, but the smile quickly returned and she watched it flap around the roof for a moment or two before looking back to the people in the room, eyeing the guns with some apprehension.

Third and last out of the strange box was a tall-ish man with dark brown hair. Everyone apart from the Torchwood team recognised him as Peter and the guns went fully away; the only ones readily armed was now the team of alien-hunters.

"Peter!"

To the surprise of the Torchwood team, Claire beamed and ran to her uncle, throwing her arms around him and ignoring the confused expressions of the mysterious couple who had emerged from the blue box.

"Claire?" Peter hesitantly returned the hug, then held her at arm's length. He looked around the Torchwood base, then at Matt and Nathan. "Where are we?" He looked over to the tall skinny man in the suit. "I'm assuming that this is the Torchwood Base?"

"Oh yes, this is it. Jack! Good to see you, I am in the right year then..." the man trailed off into silence as he received odd looks from everyone in the room, excluding Jack and the red-headed woman that had arrived with him. "Not that I would do that of course. Hello everyone, I'm the Doctor!" He finished with a bright smile.

**(A/N Going to skip the introductions because it would get very repetitive if I wrote it out. Lets just say that everyone now knows everyone elses names and origins etc. Also powers. And stuff. Basically they all know each other now. Kinda. Not friends etc yet, because obviously they've only just met. Oh damn, I'm rambling again. Sorry.)**

Later that evening, Jack noted that the atmosphere in the Hub was far less tense than it had been earlier that morning. Now everyone knew that no-one was going to hurt/maim/torture anyone else, they were far more relaxed.

In fact, it was the most fun that the Torchwood team had had in a very long time; Ianto had vanished for about an hour and when he had returned he had made the Doctor wire an Xbox into the Torchwood screens. Now Dean, Peter and Matt were trying to explain to Castiel how to race the cars on the screen. The results were very amusing.

Claire and Sam were sitting together and talking, probably about their lives. After all, its not every day you meet a super-powered blonde or a demon-infected hunter, Jack snorted. He himself was sitting with Gwen, Donna, Ianto and the Doctor. The Torchwood team had heard so much about him that, now they had an opportunity, they were hammering him with question after question about almost every alien he had ever come across, while Donna watched the exchange with an amused expression.

There was a metallic clunk and a hiss of compressed gas as the door opened. Nathan walked back into the Hub and called to everyone to announce his presence. At the sight of the stack of pizza boxes that had been ordered earlier, the conversations and games stopped. Everyone gravitated towards the promise of hot food, apart from Gwen who was checking the news for any signs of alien threats and Castiel, who was looking through the Torchwood database for information on different aliens – apparently something his universe did not have many of, because he looks very interested.

"By the way," Nathan said as he put the boxes down on the table. "Who ordered the pizza?"

"Me." Dean replied. He smirked. "Why, don't you like the toppings?" He winced as his brother elbowed him. Nathan raised his hands in front of him, palms out.

"I don't have a problem with the pizza, but why did you order under the name 'Torchwood'?"

Dean went red, but was saved from having to answer by Gwen calling Jack over to look at something she had found. Jack quickly finished his pizza slice and looked over her shoulder at the screen, followed by Sam, Dean and Nathan. As hunters, Sam and Dean were naturally interested if someone highlighted something odd in the local news. As an ex-politician, Nathan was naturally nosy when it came to strange news articles.

The heading filled the top of the webpage; 'Man killed in locked apartment.'

Sam skim-read the article – it was similar to the report that had led them to Colorado in the first place, a similar MO. A man had been killed in his house, found this morning with a horizontal gash across his forehead that went through his skull it was so deep. The building had been locked, from the inside, and according to the police there was no sign of a struggle. He had only been found because a neighbour had noticed that the man's rubbish had not been removed, and had gone to help. Sam heard Nathan hiss under his breath when he finished reading.

"Sylar."

It was a statement, not a query. That got everyone's attention, and pizza was immediately forgotten.

"What?"

"Look at this... Jack, put it on the main screen?" Nathan asked. The news story was visible to everyone in the Hub now.

"And Sylar would be who?" Donna broke the silence, looking awkward at the worried expressions that everyone but she and the Doctor seemed to understand. Peter filled in the blanks.

"He's a killer. From our world. With powers."

"Ah. Not good then."

Despite the situation, Peter grinned at her.

"No Donna. Not good." He turned so he could address everyone. "What do we do?"

I know this is pathetically short, and I apologise, really I do. **BUT** look on the bright side – at least there **WAS** an update – I wasn't _going_ to update until I could make it longer, but time kept passing and I didn't write anything, and I figured you people deserve SOMETHING for being **wonderful **and reading this, adding it to favourites /alerts and stuff. I guess it's better than not updating at all... right?

If anyone **does** want to adopt this story, please PM me and let me know?


End file.
